OS: Yesterday and Tomorrow: Rebirth--NEW! (Friday, July 26th, Pg 16) - Page 6

eagerly waiting for the next update

Paro decides that she has done enough and it is his turn now but alas she chose the wrong time to assert herself. When he needs her the most to convince that he is still important in her life.

baisa when we r getting update . i am waiting impationtly.

Thanks for the update. Rudra's jealousy is adorable. Paro is upset that he is not really reacting to the news of fatherhood. While he is annoyed that he has to share his wife with the life that they had created.

No basias, you have not missed reading Part 2 of TOMORROW (Rebirth) which will be on how Rudra handles the fact that Paro is pregnant, and he is jealous of his own baby! This series is, as you know, oddly out of order.


I have deliberately chosen to set the next installment of Rebirth back, to YESTERDAY (Rebirth) because there are things I wanted to show about the past that will help us understand tomorrow's Rudra and his eventual relationship with Paro and his babies. For now, enjoy a Flashback, to a darker time--this part of Yesterday happens immediately after the incidents of Yesterday (Repentance), when Rudra kills Jasheem Khan and visits Paro in the BSD Hospital.

Here is the link to Repentance, if you need a refresher! https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/105576925

_______________________________________________

YESTERDAY--- REBIRTH

PART 1 --The moonlight played across the sand-dunes, its capricious beams creating rivers of glittering grey on rising slopes, deepening the shadows into fathomless night in the valleys in between. The night was quiet, and for this small mercy, Paro was grateful to Bholenath. The still air transmuted her soft breathing into heavy pants, turning her shuffling footsteps into loud echoes across the moonlight limned waves of dust that she was stumbling across this night. But the silence of the Reth wind was a double edged sword tonight--- because while she could hear herself as she struggled across shifting dunes, clutching small tufts of dried grass to haul up the steeper slopes, it also meant that any whisper of sound made by her pursuers would travel miles upon miles to her straining ears.

She would hear HIM coming sooner than he would be able to find her in this shadowy lunar landscape of the Rajasthani desert. So Paro counted herself lucky, as she struggled across the desert, as she prayed for Bholenath's divine guidance this night, hoping against hope that she was not lost and going around in circles on her way back to Birpur. The sand shimmered, as her eyes clouded with fatigue, but it was pure terror that fired the tinder in her blood, forcing her onwards. It was HIS shadow in her mind putting one foot before the other, a desperate animalistic instinct for flight moving her bone-weary body forward, ever forward.


An unseen rock, perhaps a viper's nest or a sand-bird's den pitched her forward, and Paro fell onto her hands, scraping her soft palms against rubble. She found herself unable to rise. Her body, once down now simply refused to move without a few minutes of rest to restore its depleted strength. Curling into a ball, the slope of the warm sand dune a solid wall behind her back, Paro realized she was in one of those deep shadows that allowed her complete darkness---for the moment. Grimly, she calculated her time, how long she had left, the hours till dawn, the distance she still had left to cover across the desert until she reached Birpur. She had time---it would do--barely, but it would do. She would allow herself the luxury of a few minute's rest.


Her mind was a jittering, quivering mass of fear, she was in no danger of falling asleep. But her body--- her body, so recently recovered from starvation and torture was stressed to breaking point with this escape. She knew she needed to conserve her strength. Watching her enemy operate for the past three weeks had taught Paro how to operate under pressure, how to discipline her wild emotions, her natural instincts. She had seen his calculating eyes observe her, a vise like intelligence behind those eyes that sensed her weaknesses, exploited her vulnerabilities.


She had seen him estimate things, guess reactions, plan his moves, and all that had made her wise beyond her years now. She knew to conserve her strength, gather her thoughts, focus inwards to nurse her anger, her hatred, her small inner lamp of defiance. She knew better than to rush, leaving herself open to the elements, and to HIM. Her mental strength was as important as her physical reserves. Paro now poured the oil of her memories into the fire of her mind, warming herself ...and making herself swell with the sheer hatred of HIM.

**********************************************

The first indications of the Jallad's return to his cruelty had been so small, Paro had almost missed it. After recovering in the Hospital cabin for three more days, she had been discharged and brought back to the BSD HQ by Aman Bhaisa. Paro had been almost cheerful as she said her farewells to the doctors and nurses who had at first treated her as a patient, who now cried as if saying goodbye to a loved one. She had felt energized, ready to put all this behind her, to pretend the last two weeks were a fevered dream of pain and despair. She would be home soon, back in Birpur. This would all be over. A monstrous event, a monstrous man had robbed her of her future, true, but what had happened was her Fate. She would deal with it as long as she was away from HIM, from the BSD.


She had never been fated to be happily married, to be a mother and a wife. Bholenath had not written this in her destiny. But she had survived something, triumphed over someone few others could claim to do. He fought her, and she won, proving her innocence. At least she had that knowledge to shore up her courage now.


If she could survive the Jallad ...well, she could survive her widowhood, the gossip about her fate in her village, the loneliness of losing a husband without ever being his wife. At least she would be home, where Mami-sa would love her, where she could lie on her own bed, where she could pray for Varun's soul. She would speak to Aman Bhaisa about Bindi before she left the BSD today. Perhaps he would use his BSD connections to find her friend.


Back home, she would be brave and calmly don her widow's indigo. Back on her soil was where the healing could begin. And she would heal, Paro decided firmly. She would not let...HIM...take so much of herself that she was lost to the whirlpool of HIM, to what he had done to her. She had survived, had she not? Survived HIM? She would not see his eyes when she closed her own once she was home, in Birpur.Paro was sure of this.


The dreams which had come to her for so many years, the dreams of him and fire--they could no longer burn her at night. He had come into her reality, his fire destroying as much of her as it could. What was left of her---she would use it to live her life, free of him. She would not let him win, to live on in her mind not when he had not come back to see her in her hospital room after that one time. She had waited for him to tell her he was wrong, that she was innocent. She knew he knew this, but coward that he was, he had not faced her in the Hospital.


She had accepted this. Now, as she walked out of the Hospital she told herself that she would not look back and let him cloud her future any more than he had already done. In spite of this praiseworthy resolve, when Paro spoke to Aman after leaving the hospital, the first thing she asked startled him---and Paro herself.

"Where is HE? Major...Rudra?" she had asked, confused even as she questioned Aman, oddly panicked by her need to know. "Wont.. HE be the officer taking me back to Birpur? Is he...alright ? Won't he come out of his office, to see me off, after everything that has happened?"


She had asked this softly, as she was led to the HQ building across the courtyard. Aman bhaiya had not responded. "Where is Ram Mohan-ji?' She asked next, noting her missing, faithful constable. Paro's voice now raised slightly in budding panic. Would she not see the constable before they left for her village, so she could thank him for saving her life? No response from the grim faced Aman. Paro was not wearing shackles, but Aman Bhaiya's hand manacled around her wrist, as he slowly led her away from the door leading out of the BSD and inwards, towards the restricted area where the special holding cells were located.


Aman had avoided her eyes, as Paro's voice had risen, panic now thinning her tone as she had asked him why she was being led back to the holding cells. Why, after the BSD had known she was not involved in any border activities, why when the BSD were sure she was not a terrorist was she was being---locked up again? Her voice had quivered, her fear that this was another nightmare had made her shake in Aman's firm hold. Aman Bhaiya had told her nothing, beyond muttering that Major Ranawat would be coming soon enough, to explain everything to her.


"The Jallad..." Paro had whispered, her blood freezing, her senses reeling from shock. "HE is not going to let me go, is he? Even knowing that I am innocent, HE will not let me go home, to my village, to my people. HE... HE is a monster.. I am in his power. No one will help me-- and I will be HIS prisoner, forever..." Panic had coated her words, her entire body trembling with it.


And again, Aman Bhaiya had not said anything. He had not denied the monstrous truth of this, as he had gently led her into a cell that was located right next to Rudra's office room.

************************************

The cell she was led to was a new one for Parvati. Dazed, the mirage of freedom ruthlessly snatched away from her within seconds of almost reaching the sunlight, Paro had been too shocked to resist. The bolt outside her cell snicked quietly into place as Aman locked her in, the metallic clang of the shutting door seeming to come from very far away. Paro had wandered through the cell, fear flooding her anew when she realized that this new space was...tailored...to house a female prisoner.


The room was still small, but it had a barred window which led in light. It was not the underground cavern that had held her for those two nightmarish weeks before her collapse. That cell had reeked of garbage, dank, cold and damp. The cell had been an empty hell hole, with nothing but a latrine in a corner, the uneven floor littered with rat droppings and debris. This cell was freshly painted, clean, the light streaming through in to illuminate its furnishings. And yet, somehow, these small details, the preparations--- they made this cell...worse.


A narrow cot was against one stone wall, covered with clean white sheets. She noticed a pillow and a thick blanket to provide her with warmth, unlike the cell in that other part of the HQ where she had been thrown onto the floor, left shivering and exposed. There was a desk, scarred and old, set against the wall, notepads and pencils and a small vase holding sand roses. She touched the sprig of roses, dimly noting that it was real and not plastic blooms. Someone had gone to the trouble of getting fresh flowers for their prisoner. For her. Hysterical laughter bubbled into Paro's throat at this thought.


Two chairs stood nearby. There was a small table laid out with a clean water-jug and even, incongruously, a plate of fresh fruit. She was not to be starved, then. She was not going to be left hungry, weak and barely alive. The fruits seemed like a travesty of welcome to Paro, a mocking of what people did when a guest visited their home.


Hanging from a hook behind the door with its huge padlock was a mirror. Paro saw herself in its wavering reflection, her eyes huge and haunted, her body rigid with shock, her entire being a thinner, weaker version of who she used to be, just two weeks back. Towels, a small bag of underclothes were neatly folded on the bed. A sewing hoop, colored wool, thread, exactly like the kit she used back in Birpur for kalakari rested on top. This tiny detail, one that spoke of HIS knowledge of what she enjoyed doing, of her innocent hobby--- chilled her more than the old cell's freezing blasts ever had.


More and more unnerved, Paro's curious footsteps then led her to two small doors set within the cell. One door led to a private bathroom stocked with basic toiletries, the kind available in a thousand restrooms --- and a fresh bar of scented soap that Paro instantly recognized. Sandalwood, and myrrh, her own special scent. A handmade soap sold in only one small shop in Birpur, not available anywhere else in Rajasthan. And here it was. Paro shivered, her skin tingling as if HE was right there stroking her body with his hands, as if HE was burrowing his face into her throat to draw her skin's own perfume into his lungs. HE knew her scent...It was a blatant show of intimacy that was so insane, Paro almost reeled and fell backwards in shock. HE knew her...scent!!


Shaking, Paro stumbled out of the bathroom and wrenched open the other door. This opened to reveal a small closet built into the stone walls. Almost disbelieving the evidence of her own eyes, Paro reached into the small space to pull out six brightly-colored cotton ghagras and matching cholis, simple and unadorned. Parrot green, pink, red, saffron yellow. Not an indigo shaded one among them. She was not allowed to be a widow, to mourn any death.


He had chosen these. He had...chosen what she would wear, what would touch her skin. She touched the ghagra fabric, her fingers shaking-- the cotton was cheap and from the local bazaar-- but the choli and the ghagra were tailored to exactly her size. It was this detail that finally, horrifically made reality sink in, and Rudra, outside in the corridor ran the last few feet to burst into Prisoner Parvati Vader's new cell as her screams of despair reverberated off the walls of the BSD.

*************************************************

For a week now, she had resisted. No one in living memory had ever given Major Rudra Pratap Ranawat as much trouble as he had faced for the past one week from this one small Birpuri village girl. Paro. No... Parvati. Rudra grimaced, and corrected himself. She had almost attacked him with her tiny nails when he had first made the mistake of calling her "Paro" during his interrogation in her new cell. "Aapko manne Paro bulane koi haq nahi hai" she had almost spat at him, and he had felt such indignation at her denial, he had almost told her the truth.


She was Paro. She had herself asked him to call her "Paro" when she had held onto him, aquiescent, in that other cell, when she rested in his arms. It was only his own shame and regret ---and memories of Jasheem Khan--- that had stopped Rudra from telling her this. Telling her that she had turned to HIM back then, would embarrass her now. But he had been sorely tempted to...hurt her as he himself was being hurt by her now. She was refusing him, and he was going out of his mind with worry and frustration...and from a strange, burning despair at her rejection.

She did not have a lot of time.THEY did not have a lot of time. and if she did not speak---if she did not cooperate, then Rudra would not be able to save her from the events that had been set into motion with Jasheem Khan's death, a week back. And if Rudra could not keep her here, with him...


Sitting in his office, Rudra brooded over how useless the entire week had been, with one completely unreasonable Prisoner. He almost regretted finding out that Parvati Vader was truly un-involved with the Thakur's activities right now. She was still a source of vital information-- if she would only talk! But he was hitting a brick wall of anger, betrayal and hostility, without being able to interrogate her as he would have done had she been a terrorist and not a deluded innocent. She was unreasonable, stupid, incredibly loyal to a group of people who refused her very existence. She was loyal to a Thakur who had sent a monster to kill her, who had arranged her murder within the walls of the BSD.


She simply refused to believe Rudra. Him! No one had dared to doubt his word, during his entire career. Logic, warnings, threats, pleading--- none of it worked against her blind faith in her Thakur-sa. She had begged to be allowed to go home to Birpur! She had asked Aman to be her Jailor, if she was to be a prisoner, and not the Jallad!


That rankled, that last demand. Did she truly not understand that Rudra was the only one who was keeping her safe? He was keeping her safe here, where only he could get to her and no one else!! The Jasheem Khan incident had sent shock waves through the BSD, and Rudra knew there were rumblings going on about how that deviant psychopath had met his death, and what Parvati Vader knew about his plans.


Parvati had been the last person who Jasheem Khan had spoken to, and she was the sole witness to the Birpur Massacre. Nothing more than these two details, and Parvati was already a critically important civilian caught in the Army's radar. Parvati would be torn apart by the higher ups in the BSD. Investigation had started, and while Rudra knew that his own role in Jasheem Khan's death would be suspected but never proved---and that no one in their right mind would come after HIM---Parvati's own safety was still far from guaranteed.


He needed her safe, both from the traitors within the BSD, those working for Jasheem Khan and his Sarhad Par terrorists, AND from the BSD officials who might use Parvati Vader as bait, to draw out the traitors, without caring for her safety in the process. Already, there were rumors about how Jasheem Khan had died indirectly because of Parvati. She was a target for his followers and for overzealous army officials trying to get another star or stripe on their uniform.


Right now, the Chandigarth BSD had very little time before the case was transferred internally within the Army. Before she was taken somewhere else, to other people, to worse conditions, to cruel guards and indifferent officers. She needed to help Rudra with the Birpur Baraat case, so the focus could go back to the Thakur. If she was a witness, a useful one, General Singh could make sure she was not transferred anywhere else, and Rudra would have her...safe.


And she would not say a word about Birpur to him! The simplest of questions, the most gentle of pressure, and tears would roll down her eyes, burning into Rudra's skin as he tried to wipe them and was pushed away for his trouble. She would not hear him, she could not be reached. And the more he tried, the worse their standoff got.


Fortunately, for his mental stability, Rudra did not examine too closely why her cringing at his touch, her refusal to wear her new clothes, or her ignoring his questions bothered him on such an elemental level. That first day in her cell, Parvati had refused to eat the food her new constable had brought in. Rudra, watching from the door, had motioned the new man outside. Then he had taken unseemly pleasure in walking into her cell with a thali, forcing her to sit and eat her entire meal from his hands. Even when she had tried to take the plate from him, he had refused to let her, his dark expression warning her not to push him as he fed her the meal.


He recalled the way her soft lips had firmed, how she had turned away from him. The texture of silky skin under his fingers had arced through him as he had forced her chin around. Her scent had invaded his nose, as he almost pulled her into his arms, drawing her close as she had stared, wide-eyed back at him. Now Rudra's eyes closed, recalling the plump quiver of her mouth as he had placed each morsel between her lush lips. His hands fisted as he remembered how electric heat had raced through his veins when she finally gave in, and allowed him feed her. He had stretched out the entire thing for much longer than it should have taken, he realized this now.


But at the time, every morsel, every touch of her mouth, every swallow of his food--- every shaking, relief tinged moment of ... feeding her, nourishing her ... had speared through him like an addictive branding of his very soul. She had quieted under his care, and he had...taken care of her. Some part of her had accepted his right to do this. But that had been the last time she had refused her food. She was not completely stupid, after all. The next time, he knew, as she probably did, that he would not have stopped at just feeding her, he would have...


A crash, a muffled thud. Rudra stiffened, and within moments he was outside his office, racing on silent feet to the one place where his heart, mind and thoughts lived nowadays. And as he was about the turn the corner to barge into Parvati's cell, instinct sussurated within him once again. This instinct had never let him down, and now, again, it warned him of...opportunity. Not a warning of danger, he noted, his heart calming, his mind planning, calculating. An opportunity, not to be missed. And so, silent, a dark shadow against the deeper darkness of the corridor, Rudra watched. He kept himself still like the predator he was, as his small prisoner/prey peeked outside her cell. He held his breath, a smile curling his lips as Parvati stepped delicately over the fallen body of her guard, picked up her wedding ghagra in her hands and dashed off towards freedom.

*********************************************************

YESTERDAY, (Rebirth) PART 2: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/110759783

its an amazing update thank u !!

Ow my gosh, ow my gosh! This was sooo amazing !!'

Superb update... Can't wait for the next part!!

That was an awesome upd.
loved it.
superb.

Gosh what an update ..
Totally unexpected ..
Loved those scenes where Paro understood how intimately Rudra knew her ..
And Rudra is following her now..
Can't wait to read the next update :)